


Lovers in the Backseat

by dirtylittlegreasemonkey



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Caught in the Act, M/M, caught by cain, garage sex, reminiscing about their first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 09:16:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10806204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtylittlegreasemonkey/pseuds/dirtylittlegreasemonkey
Summary: Ditching a double date with Adam and Victoria, Aaron and Robert get a tipsy idea to revisit the garage and relive some good times. They just aren't expecting a surprise interruption.





	Lovers in the Backseat

They’re a few beers deep into the evening. Enough to send their heads into a pleasurable warm swarm, nerve endings thrumming and a whispering closeness that comes only from a careless lust. Robert knew this was coming when Aaron touched high up his thigh, squeezed and lingered. He slipped it away again when Adam returned to the table with another round – apparently Aaron wasn’t quite drunk enough to start feeling Robert up in front of his best mate.

“We’re heading after this,” Robert said when they all took their first sips.

“Aw what?”

Vic pouted. She’d swung a free meal for all of them – the perks of working in the kitchen – and at the start of the night had expressed high hopes they might hit the town afterwards and reclaim some of their youth. “We’re only young,” she’d said. “And we’re acting as if we’re…” she gestured towards Sandy and Pearl, taking up Marlon’s offer of two-for-one on steak pies.

Robert raised his hands as if to signal he had no choice. “Sorry, sis. Change of plan.”

“Looks like it’s just the two of us then, babe.”

Adam leaned in to give her a peck at the side of her face and Robert used their momentary distraction to splay his fingers on Aaron’s waist, crushingly close to him with his elbow on the table. _Drink up_ , he mouthed, prompting an eyebrow raise from Aaron and an exaggerated, teasing _Why?_ shape made with his lips. Robert let his tongue skirt an invisible beer foam slick above his top lip in response and stole his gaze away, innocently returning to his drink and pretending not to notice that Aaron was fixed on the pulsing rhythm of his swallow.

Now they’re walking in-step, clattering into each other as they go. Aaron almost knocks him off balance and after an _Oi, watch it!_ Robert gives him a shove back, taking hold of his wrists, drawing him in for a brief push of body-against-body and then away again. Stumbling and giggling. Too full of laughter to breathe, before he corrects himself and is back upright. Somehow it ends up in a half-hearted game of chase, like they’re school age and there’s a kiss at the end tasting of strawberry laces. Aaron scrambles away from him, but slows, if only so that Robert can catch up and tackle him from behind, grabbing him around his waist to stop him, chest pressed deliciously close to his back. His neck is twisted to the side, moon-shone and ripe for his lips to stay just there and suck against the skin.

The chase has made them both breathless and Aaron folds, hands braced on his knees, Robert puffed out and behind him. The panting sounds he makes skip with a playful shift in mood and he takes Aaron roughly by the hips, pulling him backwards until their lower halves meet. They might be under layers of autumnal clothes but Robert is pretty sure Aaron can feel exactly what Robert’s pressing against him.

“This is all very tempting,” Robert says, swaying that friction between them. He’s got that low, rubbing pitch in his voice which says everything a clothed body can’t.

“In public?” Aaron pushes back against him and one of Robert’s hands slides free up under Aaron’s t-shirt and then dips down the soft pillow of his belly and inches his fingers below the waistband of his trousers. It’s clumsier than the slow, sensual pawing he aimed for, but it’s enough to stun them both into a few more seconds of air-heavy silence.

“Anywhere,” Robert says, breathing against his neck.

Aaron’s head nods forward. They’re outside the garage without even noticing. “Here’s as good a place as any.”

Robert can hear it in Aaron’s voice, the mischief hanging from a smile.

“It’s practically ours,” Robert says, smug rather than romantic, kissing Aaron’s neck and then leaving him, and heading straight for the wheel of the truck and the spare key.

They don’t illuminate the whole garage, only the low wattage lamp in the office that spins a swirl of dust motes when they turn it on. As they kiss again, backwards steps and gasped, hushed laughter, Aaron trips into a toolbox and a clash of metal shudders through the room. He shoves Robert against the customer’s car, responding hungrily to Robert’s keen sound of pain when his spine hits the chassis. Aaron’s hands tear easily into Robert’s belt and fly, leaving Robert to ease back, hands loose from Aaron’s body and look down dopily as Aaron pulls him free from his underwear.

“This nostalgia trip’s really doing it for you…”

“Shut up,” Aaron says.

“What are we revisiting? First time? Cos by my reckoning, you should be on your back counting your lucky stars by now…”

Aaron laughs, a control, an arrogance in it. He jerks his hand down the length of Robert’s cock, rougher than Robert had anticipated. “Yeah?” he says. “And you’d be begging me for more by now, wouldn’t ya?”

“What if I was?” Robert says, palming over the outline of Aaron’s cock through his trousers.

A wrestle of bodies, that in their heads resembled a slow-dance of mouths and hands – edgeless, breathless manoeuvres, lead them both to the backseats of the Vauxhall, Aaron with his feet halfway out the door and Robert sprawled inside, legs and knees uncomfortably spread and squeezed into the space. As he hangs onto the seats for balance, letting Aaron wrangle his jeans down, he doesn’t even think about the perfectly good house they own down the road and the plush four-seater that make blow jobs a cushioned ecstasy, or the heavy oak table which has so far withstood and held still even under an impressive pummelling when he’s told Aaron just to _fucking do me, alright? I’m dying here._

If he’s honest, Aaron’s tongue making moaned little precious licks across the wet head of his cock, Robert could quite easily tell him to get his kit off and put on a pair of overalls. But he’s not sure either of them have drunk enough to really dig between each other’s fantasies tonight. Another time.

He’s too good at this. His throat opens up just so. Dark head bobbing and Robert’s focus swirling back. He puts his hand on the roof of the car and his hips thrust upwards with it. Aaron doesn’t need direction, he masters it, but Robert needs contact, so he strokes the base of Aaron’s soft neck, cruising his fingers into the hairline and gritting air between his teeth when he can hear Aaron’s deep and controlled breaths through his nose.

“You’re so good,” Robert says, thinking it’s inaudible and just a rush of lust inside his own head.

But Aaron’s dark mouth frees him, his cock glistening with saliva.

“I know,” Aaron says and moves down on him again, this time tongue loose and deliberately lazy. Calling out for Robert’s hand in his hair.

Robert gives it, shifting his pelvis and groaning in raw bliss as Aaron’s motion spirals into full-forced abandon. He pounds the roof with his fist, using language that shreds his dignity and slices between hitches of breath. He feels Aaron push his knees apart and rise up on his own so he has more traction. Then Robert loses it, wordless and trembling, white-skinned gripping of Aaron’s hoodie because he feels he might explode for real this time.

Robert crumples his sweating face under his hand and scrapes his hair back, just able to look down on Aaron taking the last of his cum. He reaches out for him, pulling him up his body for a kiss, knowing by the dampness that he’s still shuddering through the last of it onto Aaron’s clothes.

He hums, kissing all over Aaron’s jaw and repeating his name over and over until it’s numb on his lips. Then it’s a cramped and squashed reunion of their bodies, flush against each other on the back seats.

“This is more how I remember it…” Aaron says, putting his chin on Robert’s chest. “Not the specifics. More just…how it felt.”

Robert’s next kiss on him is one of smiles and affection. He’s more than ready to put him down on the floor of the car and return the favour and make a joke about being surrounded by taunts of oil and lubricant – for engines rather than bodies – when there’s a loud crash of the garage door being opened.

Aaron leaps up from him, leaving Robert more than exposed as he quickly belts up, fingers out of his control.

“Who’s there?” they hear, that unmistakable gruff voice of Cain. He flicks the light on and immediately off again when he sees them. “Fucking hell. Aaron! For god’s sake, you only live down the road.”

Robert watches, sheepish, as Aaron untangles and steps out of the car, folding his arms across his stained clothes. It’s a good thing the lights are off. He’d be fluorescent.

“This isn’t a hotel,” Cain says. He’s visibly wincing, hand over his eyes and half-turned back towards the door. “I don’t want to _see_ anything. You n’all, Sugden. Get out, you hear me?”

Robert straightens up, readjusting his shirt. “What, and you’ve never had a woman in here?”

“Doesn’t matter what I do. It’s _my_ garage,” Cain says. “And I want a hundred quid so I can get the interiors cleaned.”

“Don’t worry,” Robert says, ignoring the way Aaron’s huffing and shaking his head. “We’re always careful.”

Cain grimaces and Aaron can’t leave quick enough. “Go on, the pair of you. Get out.”

Outside, hands thrust into his pockets and feeling all too pleased with himself, Robert has to speed up to reach Aaron.

“I can’t believe you sometimes. You do know he’s my uncle, right?”

“Yeah and the local hardman, I know,” Robert says. “It’s nothing he hasn’t done in there a hundred times.”

Aaron looks at him. “We’re nearly home, we’re about five minutes away from me taking my kit off and you’re talking about Cain’s sex life…”

“Mood killer. Okay. Point taken.”

Aaron shakes his head and then stills as if he’s thought of something. “Race you upstairs?”

“You’re on.”

  

  


End file.
